


like ships need the sea

by shuanime



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Captain Seungcheol, Developing Relationship, First Mate Jeonghan, M/M, Sirens, Smut, Three Idiots Seokwanchan, but there are really no sirens, i tried so hard not to call seungcheol's cock "penis" because it will ruin the fantasy, prince jisoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuanime/pseuds/shuanime
Summary: Closing his eyes to further relish in the feeling of the salty waters around him, he hums a tune—a delicate, sheer tune that he has heard somewhere before. He always hums this tune whenever he goes for a swim just like this. It’s an understanding between him and the moon and the sea and the sand beneath his feet.It’s a wish.Jisoo does not want to get married. But he doesn’t know what he wants.And so, he wishes for any intervention—he wishes for what he wants.Whatever that is supposed to be.Alternatively: A pirate AU where three idiots kidnapped an innocent bystander because they mistook him for a siren. And their captain falls in love. Hard.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups & Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua
Comments: 19
Kudos: 143





	like ships need the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masqmar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqmar/gifts).



> hello jen! thank you so much for comeeshing me to write this :) it's so chill and nice and idk if you'll like the road i took when writing this, but i really really hope u do! thank u so much mwa mwa ur the sweetest
> 
> now, for u readers, here's some points i'd like to go over before letting u proceed:
> 
> 1\. this is so unrealistic. PIRATES ARE SO ICKY in real life. they dont brush their TEETHSIES. they dont have SOAP. and god knows what else they do that's icky. but this au is romanticized pirates so... don't come @ me if it's not what you read in your history books  
> 2\. im sorry if this is badly written that's my BRAND  
> 3\. ALL my knowledge about pirates are from spongebob squarepants, popeye the sailorman, and peter pan (my gf reminded me of captain hook) so im sorry if u find this poorly researched i swear there's 30+ tabs of pirate facts and parts of pirate ship tabs on my browser the whole time i was writing this!!!!  
> 4\. enjoy and oh oh ! there's smut ;) but if ur uncomfy with that go click off right now!
> 
> i hope u like this hehehehe

“I’m just going for a walk,” he says as he wraps the shawl around his shoulders. “There’s no need for guards.”

“Jisoo,” Mingyu protests gently, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. “It’s unsafe for the prince to roam around at night. At least let me come with you.”

“I’m going to be fine,” Jisoo insists, placing a placating hand on Mingyu’s hands on his stomach, and then unclasping them as softly as he can so as to not hurt Mignyu’s feelings. “Tomorrow, I will be smothered by everyone. This will be the last peace I have to myself. I’ll just walk along the shore. Won’t wander off too far.”

Mingyu falls silent, and Jisoo can feel the cogs in his head turn, analyzing if it’s okay to let his fiancé roam around the night before their wedding day. Jisoo turns to look at him, pleading with his eyes—a move Mingyu can’t resist even if he tries.

“Only by the shore?”

Jisoo nods, expectantly. “Only by the shore.”

Mingyu eventually lets him go but not before reminding him several more times not to stray too far. Outside is dangerous especially at night even if the shore is just beside the castle. Jisoo reassures him that he has done this before, and he can well protect himself from any threat. If anything goes wrong, Mingyu makes him promise that he will scream as hard as he can. Jisoo thinks it’s overly dramatic, but he vowed, anyway, when he realizes that would put Mingyu at ease. When the man knows he has some control over Jisoo, it makes him feel right.

Walking along the shore is as calming to him as a mother’s lullaby. Perhaps because this is what his late mother loved to do before she passed. Jisoo never knew her and only learned of her beauty, elegance, and bravery through odes and tales passed to him by the maidservants and his governess, the only ones who cared for him as he grew up. The King was always busy with matters concerning the kingdom, and Jisoo, being the seventh son and the last child, was never an important matter to him. At first, no one even believed he was one of the sons. He looks too much like his mother, sharing nothing with his father. If not for the faint birthmark on his collarbone, the birthmark similar to the ones on his other brothers’ skins, he would’ve been disowned by the royal line. They would’ve dubbed his mother a harlot.

When the neighboring kingdom’s prince, Prince Mingyu of Maikoa, came to ask for his hand, his father didn’t even think twice. It was a decent bargain (Jisoo gets to call it that because he’s the one put up for sale)—a prince from a stronger kingdom comes seeking for a spouse from theirs, their domain in need of an imperishable alliance, and Jisoo, the docile, soft-hearted prince of Asclepias, is the only unmarried son. It required little to no effort to understand that he’s going to be married off to a great prince. As soon as Mingyu met him, the man fell in love.

But Jisoo would be lying if he said he did, too, when in truth, he can’t see him as anything other than a good friend. He likes Mingyu. He likes that he’s gentle and forbearing, but it seems like he’s only that way because he thinks Jisoo is a fragile glass bauble that he should carefully encase in his palms. It’s pleasant, if Jisoo’s being honest, but it’s not the life he wants for himself.

Such a big word. _Want_. Nobody ever asks him for what he wants. Not even himself.

What does _he_ want?

The night breeze is cold which means the seawater is warm. Jisoo dips his toes in, wiggling them as they hit the homely water. He looks around once more, careful as ever because while this area of the beach is far from the lighthouse, there still could be anyone sauntering nearby. When he’s so sure that there’s no one and that he’s alone, he strips naked under the moonlight just like he always does on nights he feels most troubled, leaving all of his clothes and undergarments piled neatly next to a stone. He then descends, letting out a sigh when the warm water hits the skin of his thighs, and then his abdomen, and then his chest. There’s something about being submerged down to his chest that makes him feel light as a feather. Like a tight embrace that he can only imagine is from whatever is left of his mother.

She would’ve loved him more than anything in the world.

Closing his eyes to further relish in the feeling of the salty waters around him, he hums a tune—a delicate, sheer tune that he has heard somewhere before. He always hums this tune whenever he goes for a swim just like this. It’s an understanding between him and the moon and the sea and the sand beneath his feet.

It’s a wish.

Jisoo does _not_ want to get married. But he doesn’t know what he wants.

And so, he wishes for any intervention—he wishes for what he wants.

Whatever that is supposed to be.

* * *

“There is one! Somewhere over there,” the youngest points at the nearing shore, an eye kissing the spyglass. They’re not even supposed to be coming ashore without a plan. It’s unsafe. Royal armies of what kingdom is nearby might spot them, and it’s never great for raiders. “I’ve heard it sing before. It has such a melodious voice.”

“They don’t exist,” Seungkwan scratches his head in annoyance. “Seokmin, turn this ship around. Right now! Before the Captain finds out.”

“But Chan said there’s a _siren_ ,” the sailing master’s eyes twinkle as he reasons with Seungkwan. “I can’t just turn this around. If Chan is right about that siren, we’ll have treasure for the Captain! We’ll be rewarded with so much gold.”

“Fifty pieces of gold,” Chan muses on out loud. Seokmin sighs in pleasure as he thinks about it, too.

“A hundred pieces!”

“A hundred and one-pieces!”

“You two!” Seungkwan whisper-exclaims, jolting them off their gold daydreams. “Hold your tongues. If it’s a real siren, like you say it is, you’re going to scare it away and you’re going to alert everyone on this ship with your babbling. I don’t plan on sharing my prize with the others.”

Squinting, Seokmin stops steering the helm and crosses his arms indignantly. “ _Your_ prize?”

“Shh!” Chan peeks some more at the spyglass, the image of the siren growing nearer. It’s a head above the water, and Chan might have more speculation if not for the humming that fills his ears.

“Do you hear that?” Seokmin says in wide-eyed shock. “Singing pure and sweet like a lullaby…”

“Aren’t we supposed to be sent into a trance by now?” Seungkwan asks in confusion.

“That’s an old tale,” Chan nods to himself. “We’re the first ones to ever lay eyes on a real, breathing siren.”

“I don’t know... I think I’m feeling dizzy.”

“That’s because you ate those murky barnacles you scraped off the rudder. I told you not to put unknown things in your mouth.”

“They tasted fine to me!”

As they banter about what may or may not be poison that Seungkwan had possibly ingested earlier, Seokmin drops the anchor of the vessel when he deems it hidden enough behind a massive rock near the shore. The anchor hooks onto the seabed, slowly putting the ship to a halt.

The thing about this ship is that it’s quiet, built to be swift and soundless much like a ghost. Always a great feature, Seokmin thinks, because it almost always guarantees their triumph. Seokmin looks up to the Captain for being able to seize this beauty, the craft that withstood more than fifty battles and warfares— _The Silent Reaper_.

From this point on, they have scant time to retrieve the siren before the quartermaster finds the still vessel suspicious and alerts the captain. And if he does… well, Seokmin as the sailing master will have to answer to him, and Seokmin would rather not have to face him. Or the Captain.

Neither, he hopes. Those two can get quite sinister when angry.

“What’s the plan?” Seungkwan asks quietly, barely a murmur so they don’t startle the singing siren. They can’t see the face from this distance, but they can make out the head and shoulders.

The siren has such beautiful skin. And full, luscious hair.

Inside the three of them is the urge to see the _tail_.

“I will silently fling the net over the siren,” Chan replies, calculating his movements mentally. He hands Seungkwan a steel cylinder that weighs the other down for a moment. It’s heavy, but the weight is bearable if he centers most of his strength onto carrying it. “Kwan, you will drop this on its head.”

“What if this kills it?”

“It will not,” Chan insists, the glint in his eye suggests that he can get too confident for his own good. “I have a feeling that sirens don’t die that easy. And if it does, it’s still a siren. We can still get gold.”

Seungkwan and Seokmin share a look upon hearing that from the youngest on the ship.

“Aye, boy,” Seokmin mutters as Seungkwan nods in agreement. “You’re evil.”

Chan hauls the net made of heavy ropes weaved together, untangling as much as he would need to toss to the waters. They use this net for catching gigantic sea creatures, so there’s no escape for the siren. “Just do it, will you? I’m sure it will work.”

And so, they embark on the scheme for a marvelous feat that is capturing a legendary creature.

They are _so_ going to be rich.

* * *

“He’s majestic.”

“ _He?_ What if it’s not a _he_?”

“It has a… _doodle_ , so I’m assuming it’s a he.”

“You sure that’s a doodle?”

“Never have I seen a siren’s doodle before.”

“He doesn’t have… bosoms.”

“Seokmin, just because it doesn’t have bosoms it’s a _he_.”

“His doodle looks like peeled fruit.”

“Lychee?”

“That. Peeled lychee.”

“His skin is so smooth.”

“His doodle, too.”

“Can we stop looking at his doodle?” Seungkwan heaves a sigh, changing the subject. Seokmin still has his eyes glued on the siren’s _doodle_. “Chan, are you sure this is a siren? He doesn’t have a tail. Not even a fin.”

“Not certain,” Chan shrugs, nudging the body with his boot. “He does look like the beautiful creature described by the tales.”

“So, this is a siren with no fishtail.” Seungkwan scratches his head. “Isn’t that just a person?”

“Eh… He’s definitely a siren. You can tell by that fact that he’s too stunning to be a person.”

They jump a little when Seokmin speaks, voice sounding like he just found the cure for _la_ _grippe_.

“What if sirens lose their tail and grow legs when they’re out of water?”

Seungkwan and Chan fall silent as they think about that.

“You can ignore that,” he follows up sheepishly. It’s too arrogant for him to think that could be true, after all. “I’m no siren scholar.”

“Blow me down, Seokmin!” Chan’s eyes light up and Seungkwan claps his hands, hooting as he cheers for their immensely intelligent friend. “Ye're a genius!"

Seokmin feels his face grow hot, grinning from ear to ear at the compliment.

“Aw,” Seungkwan pulls a face, staring at the unconscious being trapped under the burdensome weight of the net. “I be excited to see the splendid fishtail they talk about in stories.”

“I’m sure if we put him back into the water, he shall grow his tail.”

When neither Seungkwan nor Seokmin makes any comment, Chan dismisses the sudden quietness. It’s unlikely they would fall silent all of a sudden, but the sight before him is nothing like he had ever seen before, so he pays no heed. Instead, he bends down, tugging on the net ropes to see if the siren would respond or wake up. He’s careful not to touch it with his hands.

“Come on! Help me carry him to the back before the quartermaster finds out about this.”

“Before Jeonghan finds out about what?”

“The siren! Son of a biscuit eater, you’re both so… slow…”

The moment he recognizes the voice, he turns, palms turning clammy.

“Ahoy, Captain! I mean, Sir—I mean—”

“Save it.” Seungcheol takes long swinging strides, limping a little with the injury on his leg hastily wrapped with a dirty cloth. They were ambushed over a week ago, but it still hasn’t healed fully. “I take it Jeonghan did not give you orders for a stopover. I specifically ordered us to head to port, no _delays_.”

Chan casts a look at the other two, but they’re both rigid, standing in place chest out and head bowed down. _These cowards,_ Chan inwardly rolls his eyes as he tries to piece together a worthy excuse.

The net beside him moves, capturing the Captain’s attention.

“What do you have there, Chan?”

“This—Oh—"

Seungcheol frowns, eyes narrowing as his gaze falls onto the naked human captive. “What did you capture that person for?”

“N-Nothing important,” Chan steps backward when the Captain of the ship takes one forward to inspect it. He gulps before he continues, “We were just—”

“You know we can’t have captives now. We’re lying low! We still haven’t reached the nearest stronghold, and we can’t take another attack. What if that person’s related to a monarch—"

“It’s not a person!” Seungkwan interjects, shutting his mouth right away as Seungcheol’s expression darkens. He shouldn’t have done that.

Historically, captains are known to be ruthless, commanding the crew with an iron fist. At least that’s what they’ve heard from pirates of other crew when they’re gathering supplies at a refuge island. Criminal masterminds in the eyes of nobles. But theirs is a lot different than that. Seungcheol is a great captain with his compelling battle prowess and unapproachable glamor, but other captains think less of him for the fact that he’s too… _nice_ for his own good.

Not that that’s a bad thing for the crew.

His awkward grace and interactions with them are familiar and benevolent, and Chan can’t fault him for that because he somehow finds a family on this ship. Though, he cannot help but worry about how his Captain pales into insignificance if pirates, sea raiders who kill and steal resort to violence for a living, were awarded for their crimes. It’s his heart that belongs to the people that make him a thousand and a galleon humane than any other. Chan has a thought that if he is not an impoverished brigand, he’d probably make a worthy king.

All the fear that he has for the Captain is out of respect, and nothing—not even a richer pirate or a siren of immeasurable worth—can change his honor.

That, and Seungcheol has a hand on the hilt of his sword strapped around his waist. Chan can only gulp as he stares at it.

_Good luck, Seungkwan, ye ol’ bucko._

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol enunciates his name, blood-curling with a purpose. It makes the hairs on his nape stand. “What do you mean by that?”

“A s-siren,” he stammers, face heating up as he hears how ridiculous he sounds, but Chan thinks he has balls for still insisting. He can get marooned, if he keeps that up, but he doubts the Captain is that callous. At best, he’d be tasked to swab the deck or tie everything down when a storm is coming until the captain forgets about him talking back. “That’s a siren!”

Seungcheol’s brows crease as he taps his foot impatiently on the wooden floorboards. “Do you think I’m a fool? That’s a boy.”

“No, no! See, if he gets wet, he’s going to grow fins and a fishtail.”

The Captain takes one long look at him and then looks up to the starry night sky. “O, Davy Jones’ Locker, I do not have time for this. Take them from my hands.”

“That’s cruel!” Seungkwan exclaims, shocked that the captain called out to a fabled evil spirit to claim them. “It’s true! Come, Seokmin, show the Captain your genius discovery.”

The Captain, unbelieving of the extent of folly he has to deal with, has both his eyebrows reach the skies above and his lips in a twist when Seokmin proceeds to confidently grab a nearby bucket with a rope attached to the handle, making firm and precise movements as he swings it off deck and fetches a pail of saltwater from below.

“Watch,” he says, maintaining eye contact with the Captain who’s visibly growing irate the more he watches.

Seungkwan and Chan watch in anticipation as the scene unfolds in front of them. Seokmin is going to commit the magic, and they will certainly be richer than they ever were after this moment. When the water splashes all over the deck and onto the unconscious “siren,” they wait for the smooth, bronzy legs to turn into a breathtaking tail covered with lustrous, iridescent scales.

And so, they wait.

And wait…

And wait…

And wai—

“You’re all swabbing the decks for the rest of the year. The three of you alone.” Seungcheol says, voice firm and final. Chan opens his mouth to reason some more, but one look from the Captain and he’s closing it back shut. The Captain has lost all patience.

“Aye, aye.” Seokmin is the only one to respond in a sullen voice, grieving over not having caught a siren. That, and he’ll have to go back to sailing the ship again.

The Captain turns around, limping as he walks back to his quarters. He turns back around to face them when he remembers, “Put him in a boat and throw that shark bait off deck.”

“But, sir! We’re already far from where he came from. He’s going to die out in the sea!”

“I don’t give a—”

“P-Please,” a hoarse yet hushed voice interrupts him, stealing all their attention. They all pivot to look at the source of the forlorn voice: the not-siren boy.

He looks up at them, lips pale and trembling as he hugs himself for warmth under the weight of the net and eyes wide and imploring. The feeling that the gaze evokes creeps up and dissolves the staunchness and stiffness of their rotten pirate hearts.

“Please don’t h-hurt me.”

* * *

_“Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!”_

A booming voice along with the heat of the sun startles Jisoo awake. Stroking the knots on his neck that he could only guess he got from sleeping on a hard surface, he slowly sits up only to find himself in, what seems to be, a huge crate of coconuts. The sack, a dark shade of _suspicious_ brown, that’s draped over him like a blanket is dirty and itchy, but Jisoo inwardly sighs in relief when he remembers he’s butt naked underneath this.

What happened last night is still a blur to him. He was swimming, thinking about not wanting to get married. And then he woke up _somewhere_ in the nude yet covered in _something_ , head throbbing in pain. He remembers being splashed with water, the cold stinging his skin. He heard someone say something about dying. As he tries to piece the memories together, a sharp pricking in his head interrupts him.

“You awake!?”

He gasps, jumping out of his skin. A boy who, if not covered in grime, looks fairly younger than him pops out of nowhere, making him tug the sack-blanket closer to his body.

“Wh—”

“We need a cook. Can you cook?”

“I—”

“Chan, let the siren finish talking,” another boy speaks up, and Jisoo’s head snaps to his direction. He’s as dirty as the other boy, but what strikes Jisoo the most is his plump, bouncy cheeks.

“But he takes too long—"

“Oh! My bad. Not a siren. You’re not a siren, are you?” The boy with plump cheeks asks him, voice filled with anticipation that tells Jisoo the boy wants him to say he _is_ one.

“N-No, I’m not—”

“That’s not extraordinary, but fine.” The plump-cheeked boy’s smile drops as he grumbles. It feels like Jisoo has disappointed him somehow.

“I’m sorry…?”

“You should be. We almost got hanged because of you.”

“Hanged!?” Jisoo exclaims in wide-eyed shock. He has no idea what’s going on. He’s scared and parched and overwhelmed by everything that has been going on.

He just wants to go home.

“Nay, don’t believe these lads,” a man who is holding some sort of makeshift mop comes up to them. “The Captain will never punish us like that. Swabbing the floors is already the one of worst damnation you can get aboard!”

“Aboard…” He looks around and true enough, he can only see wood and chains and ropes. The surrounding area consists of endless skies and waters.

He’s on a ship heading golly knows where with people… dirty people he hasn’t met before.

 _I’m on a ship!?_ Jisoo panics. “I can’t be here.”

“Too bad, scallywag,” the newcomer clicks his tongue. “Ye’re one of us now. I’m Seokmin. I sail the ship when I’m not scrubbing these grand floorboards. Right now, the quartermaster is steering the helm.”

Jisoo looks down at the creaky deck covered in soot and mire. It’s the ugliest floor he has ever seen. Not a single thing that is grand about it.

“I’m Seungkwan. Sometimes on kitchen duty, but I man the artillery with the others!” The plump-cheeked boy chirps. Jisoo wouldn’t have taken him as someone who plays with cannons.

“Me name is Chan. I-I do all sorts of things, ” the young-looking boy waves a hand. “What’s your name? We keep calling you _siren_ since we have no idea who you are.”

“Jisoo,” he says, warily. Their prattling makes them seem less terrifying than they look, but he can’t be too sure.

It’s as if he’s on a pirate ship, kidnapped for a hefty ransom that his father won’t bother paying for because it’s easier to just tell the people he died of natural death. He’s not as great as his brothers with details about sea raiders, but he has learned a lot about them.

They’re vicious and unforgiving, only caring about what they can loot. They don’t tolerate being controlled by an unfair system that’s why they have the power to overthrow their captain whenever they see fit. They have the most brutal punishments for prisoners. Jisoo can get whipped, keelhauled, sold into slavery, and other abuses he can’t name.

He should’ve just stayed home. He should’ve let Mingyu come with him. He should’ve…

But these people so far had done nothing a pirate would. They haven’t demanded information from him, taunted him, harmed him to make a point that they’re mean and they mean business.

Again, he can’t be too sure.

“Wear this.” Seokmin hands him what looks more like a rag than a shirt, except it’s a softer material than the sack blanket that he has draped over him, and frankly he would love to get out of it. The shirt is big, too baggy to be a shirt for his size, but it will do for now.

He puts it on, obeying their every word in order to not give them a reason to get mad at him. The shirt is nice. It doesn’t smell the best and his loins are on display underneath it, but the shirt is spacious enough to function as… a dress.

“Is it comfortable?” Chan asks.

“Yes, quite lovely, actually.” Jisoo doesn’t hold back with the compliment, and the three of their faces light up at that.

Jisoo is about to accept his fate: perpetually confused.

“See, I told you he’ll love it!” Chan smacks Seungkwan’s shoulder in excitement. The other retaliated by slapping him back. “We knew you’re a rich noble or something of the like, going by your smooth skin and your fluffy blond hair. So, we gave you our treasured clothing.”

“Th-Thank you,” Jisoo bows his head a little as a sign of respect. That somehow makes him feel welcomed. These are the most hospitable bunch of raiders he has ever known. Not that he knew any to begin with.

“Aye, it’s really special. It belonged to Ball Hog.”

“Where is he?” Jisoo suddenly feels cold at the mention of the name. It sounds like a big, scary pirate. One who can throttle him with his bare hands. “Can I thank him for his clothes?”

“Oh,” Seungkwan laughs at him, slapping his thighs, and Chan and Seokmin giggle along with him. “You can’t. Ball Hog is already fish bait.”

Jisoo just eyes them, perplexed.

“ _Fish bait?_ ” What could that mean?

“Ah,” Chan is the first to snap out of the laughter. He wipes tears off his eyes. “We shall tell you more later. For now, let’s get you to the captain’s quarters!”

“W-Wait. The Captain, is he going to kill me— _Eek!_!”

He isn’t given a chance to resist, because Seokmin is already hauling him, plopping him onto his shoulders like a father would carry a stubborn child. It’s uncomfortable. He feels like a sack of rice, and he worries if the shirt is riding up, showing the whole world his private bits. But the lack of breeze to his nether regions might mean the shirt covers up sufficiently.

He tries to wiggle himself off. “Let me down! I can walk!”

Seokmin just laughs heartily in response. “Don’t move too much. Might drop ya!”

He doesn’t see anything but Seokmin’s back, but he hears a door close behind them. The next thing he knows, he’s seated on a shabby wooden chair, Seokmin winking at him on his way out of the quarters.

When he regains composure after being manhandled like that, Jisoo decides he doesn’t even want to look around anymore, afraid he might find a rotting corpse somewhere.

The Captain’s quarters are a mess. And much like the main deck of the ship where he woke up, it stinks of mud, fish, with an additional something—a fetid odor, product of the mixture of all attacks to man’s perception of smell.

Jisoo doesn’t know how long he can stay here without breathing.

* * *

“Are _you_ the Captain?”

He greets the captain with obvious dismay. He knows he’s being such a grump, possibly not what the captain had in mind when he was on his way to his quarters. Jisoo has one hand on his waist and another pinching his nose which makes his voice sound nasal. He’s not sure if he is more or less their prisoner, but he has to get this off his chest. Something about this captain is not threatening at all, and that helps him express himself with ease.

“Are you the siren?” The Captain asks back, face barring any emotion. Jisoo thinks it’s a tactic to establish some dominance, but he’s going to break through this front.

They’re going to be _friends_ , whether the pirate wants them to be or not.

That’s Jisoo’s plan until he fathoms another plan that will guarantee his safety. He’s going to befriend the big, scary leader.

“Why does _everyone_ keep calling me siren?” He sighs aloud. _Pirate_ _talk_. “I hate to impose on our first meeting, Captain, but your cabin is foul-smelling.”

Finally, he can breathe… Not actually _breathe_ because it still stinks in here. But he had said what was needed to be said. If the captain stays in here, these pigsty-smelling quarters, he doesn’t want to know where the rest of the crew sleeps.

The Captain scoffs, looking quite amused. That’s good, Jisoo thinks. It means he has more time before he decides to kill him.

“I don’t believe you understand the situation you’re in. You’re a prisoner, siren. At least for now.”

“ _Stop. Calling. Me. That_.”

His nose scrunches when he realizes how he sounded. Not exactly the reaction a sea raider would want out of him. He clears his throat and tries again in a more polite, less abrasive voice. “I have a name.”

“Then, your name,” he chuckles, and Jisoo is watching his every move. The Captain walks—more limping than walking—and sits on a pile of… something indiscernible to Jisoo. It almost looks like an attempt to _indicate_ a bed. Jisoo ceases judgment in favor of looking at the injured leg. “Tell me.”

“Jisoo,” he says quietly.

“What a pretty name,” Seungcheol says, unsheathing a cutlass of fearsome beauty. It’s as long as his own torso and as wide as an arm. The hilt is a steel grip with a black steel half-basket guard. It looks like it had just been polished, the flat, slightly curved steel blade with a double-edged spear point glinting his reflection back at him. It must be from a naval officer of very high rank. He had seen many of those back in their gallery of arms and armors. Jisoo gulps at the sight of it.

Not of fear. He never learned, so he wants to know how to wield one.

“ _Jisoo_ ,” The Captain repeats his name, rolling off his tongue as if it’s an odd sound. “Quite sure I’ve heard the King of Asclepias has a son with a name like that.”

How… How does he know? Jisoo contains an inner turmoil bubbling up inside of him. He can’t panic now.

A beat passes, and when Jisoo doesn’t make a sound the Captain looks up from his polishing. Though, he didn’t have to look up to know that Jisoo’s aware that _he’s_ aware.

His throat feels parched when he found the words to respond with, “How did you know?”

“The royal family of Asclepias is known for the leaf birthmark. You should know, Prince Jisoo, before coming aboard in the nude.”

Shoulders tense, Jisoo sits upright at the mention of the title. As his mind races, thoughts progressing into different occasions of him and his possible deaths, he crosses his legs and his arms defensively.

“My father will not beg you to give me back if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m as good as fish bait now. He won’t spend a dime on my safety when our people need it most.”

Fishbait… It sounded right at the moment—

 _Fishbait_? He’s wearing a dead man’s clothes. That’s why the three outside were laughing at him. Jisoo sinks into himself as he processes it all. He’s wearing dead man’s clothing and he’s going to be _the_ dead man.

The Captain doesn’t say anything to that, opting to set down his cutlass on the bed and bending down to tend to his leg instead. Jisoo sees an opening. He could grab the sword and threaten him with it. He could be on the offense and defense at the same time. With a weapon like that, he might even kill this man and be captain himself.

But a derisive voice in his head guffaws: _And what muscle is there on your body that you could possibly use to harm a bigger man?_

He recovers from his daydreams when the Captain starts unraveling the cloth bandages around his leg, revealing a burn mark.

But it’s not just any other burn. The burned flesh of the Captain's calf displays Solanum’s royal emblem. Jisoo doesn’t know them personally, but their people have stayed away from that clan since the Gray War. They are known to have the most advanced technology, the blood-chilling mechanisms used as weapons of destruction. Not a single bloodline survived an invasion, but this captain and the people aboard this ship, one way or another, have evaded the slaughter.

Jisoo doesn’t know whether he should be astonished by their luck or scared for his life. What if Solanum is still after them?

The Captain sighs as he inspects his own injury. “I have no interest in your measly kingdom. The birthmarks are the only thing that makes you stand out, but other than that, you heavily rely on alliances. No treasure. You’ve proven yourself useless as a captive. Quite frankly, I’m tempted to just throw you overboard.”

“But?” Jisoo asks, poised. “What’s keeping you from butchering me right this moment?”

“I heard your kingdom has fertile soil,” he says, finger poking at the burn. Jisoo wants to slap his dirty hand away. “Rich in produce. So, here’s a deal for you: we bring you back and you fill our ship with food rations. We just need to head to a refuge port to rest and repair damages, and then we’ll turn back around to your land to get our share.”

“That’s it? You’re going to let me go just like that? If I’m not a prisoner, then what does that make me on this ship?”

His eyes scan Jisoo from head to toe. “You look like you have something you can give me in return.”

Jisoo squints his eyes, nose wrinkling. “I am _not_ that kind of person.”

The Captain laughs, and he does so with his whole belly, making Jisoo’s stomach churn in apprehension. “Oh, I have a feeling you’ll have no choice but to submit.”

* * *

The Silent Reaper proved to be a battleground in which Jisoo is the hero and the entire deck is the monster.

It has been a terrible day for him so far. His joints crack and his muscles ache with every move.

When the Captain (Jisoo learned that his name is Seungcheol and somehow most of the people call him by his name on the regular) said Jisoo had _something_ to offer, he wasn’t talking about anything tangible. It was… other forms of services.

(Jisoo felt like a fool for insinuating the captain wanted to do things to his _body_. Not one of his best moments, indeed.)

The first day aboard as their cleaning monkey, Jisoo had to spend what felt like hours trying to figure out how to _swab_ the deck. After getting laughed at by everyone who passed by his pitiful state, he eventually received help from Seokmin, so he could actually get started. But when he finally was halfway through his scrubbing activity, Seungkwan came to check up on his work, much to his annoyance, only to point at spots he missed. He didn’t even know one could still miss on floorboards like these.

(He did complain. _I’m a prince. You can’t expect me to work and well at that_ , to which Seungkwan replied: _You eat here, you work here.)_

Nighttime came, and he was left with his bruised knees and elbows from all the labor. Seungcheol offered to let him sleep in the quarters with him albeit they would have to share the musty-looking bed (The captain was being nice to the privileged prince.) Jisoo refused, saying he wants to sleep next to Chan instead because he thinks they’ve gone closer, but truly, they haven’t. He just couldn’t find the valor to sleep next to him after _that_ time—his ego would not let him.

So, he stayed in the crew cabin, Chan letting him sleep on his hammock which was more string than cloth. It reeked more in that cabin than in the captain’s quarters. And when he needed to… _tinkle_ in the middle of the night, he found out they do it on the port side, either directly to the sea or on the deck he just scrubbed, and he swore there was at least a lavatory in the captain’s quarters.

He spent the night not sleeping at all, just wondering what could have been if he accepted Seungcheol’s offer to sleep with him—

Not _with_ him.

In his quarters.

***

The next day, he finds himself cooking. And he has not a single idea on how to cook the things in front of him.

Salted meat, potatoes, dried beans. There are a ton of herbs and spices. Seungkwan was the previous cook, but he was never great at it. He was just tasked to do it because no one else wanted the job, so he’s not much help.

But now that Jisoo’s aboard, it’s his job, and… he did quite well. The crew ate the food. He ate some of his creations.

Nothing’s good. Nothing’s bad either.

Is it always going to be like this until he comes home?

When he got some leisure time, the crew busy in each of their own posts, he finds himself at the bow of the ship overlooking the waters, eyes trained on the endless horizon.

This is the first time since getting kidnapped that he has time to think about home.

Back there, no one is waiting for him. Perhaps Mingyu is. But Jisoo doesn’t want him to worry. He doesn’t want Mingyu to think about him. He deserves someone who loves him.

Where is home?

Nothing’s good here on the ship. Nothing’s bad either.

Jisoo somehow feels bad for not feeling bad. He was, after all, captured against his will.

“You’re not going to see any land for a few weeks more,” Seungcheol says from beside him. He doesn’t remember noticing him earlier. He must have been too absorbed in his thoughts. “It’s all water until then.”

Jisoo looks away from the horizon, turning his face just in time the cool air blows the hair of the captain’s forehead. It’s the first time he’s seeing him up close.

He’s rather… handsome for a pirate.

“Why are you nice?”

He asks because he can’t handle not knowing anymore.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” Jisoo insists. “You can kill me. You can throw me overboard like you said. You have power. So why, _why_ are you being merciful?”

Seungcheol shrugs, putting his body’s weight onto his good leg. “I never thought of truly harming you when I found you on deck. There is no reason for me to harm you. There is no reason for you to be here. It was just... a stroke of luck, perhaps.”

 _A stroke of luck_ , Jisoo muses.

Luck is such a peculiar word.

“That said, how did I end up here? If you really did not mean to take me…”

Seungcheol stares at him intensely, lip pushing and pulling into a smile. It’s as if he’s trying not to laugh.

“What do you find funny about my question?” Jisoo asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Chan and the other two mistook you for a siren.”

Jisoo’s head swims in so many questions upon hearing that, jaw clenching and face heating up at all the emotions inside him.

He is baffled.

No—That’s not it. He is furious.

“SO THAT IS WHY YOU’RE CALLING ME SIREN!” He screams, a fist landing on Seungcheol’s (solid, muscular, dense—Jisoo notes) chest. It did nothing but make the captain howl in laughter. “That is why I’m on this ship! Not because of my family!? Not because of my worth!?”

Jisoo’s distress seems to be humorous to the captain as he doubles over in laughter. He grabs Jisoo’s shoulders, shaking him as he laughs, all teeth and gums displayed. The touch is surprising. Jisoo hasn’t met anyone who touches another when they laugh.

He’s suddenly excessively aware of the hands on his shoulders, the heat of the body next to him, the rich sounds of laughter. It’s all new, this kind of company.

And perhaps, the creases on his forehead softens as he watches the captain laugh, carefree and jaunty. And perhaps it brings a little smile on his face, too.

“Hysterical,” Seungcheol comments when his laughter dies down, wiping away the tears of joy in his eyes. Jisoo pulls another sour face to hide his smile. Seeing this, the captain nudges him in good spirit. “Come on now. You know it’s silly.”

“Fine,” Jisoo purses his lips, trying to suppress a smile, but he knows Seungcheol can see it in his eyes. “Maybe it _is_ a little funny.”

With this moment, it feels like they grew closer.

Jisoo feels bad for the tranquil he seems to be finding on this ship.

* * *

“I refuse to live like this.”

Jisoo barges in his quarters with a firm stance. Seungcheol had been up until the wee hours of the night on his bed, resting his leg. After telling the crew that they have a new cleaning monkey, to which Chan cheerfully celebrates, he took charge of steering the helm of the ship alongside Jeonghan, the First Mate. Jisoo was whisked away by the others, orienting him about his jobs. (Now that he thinks about it, it’s Seokmin who solely guides the prince patiently around the vessel.)

They haven’t spent time together since the time he told him the real reason why he’s aboard the ship.

So, seeing him again looking like the deepest parts of hell with his uncharacteristically unkempt hair and heavy under-eye bags, Seungcheol can’t deny that it is _such_ a sight.

“Seungkwan snores,” Jisoo complains, walking towards him. Seungcheol sits up a little, mindful of his leg. It has been at least a week, and Jisoo is acting as if they’re close friends.

Seungcheol cannot find a fault for that. Is it wrong to want to be friends with a beautiful siren who turned out to be human?

“Is that all? I assumed you had the nerve to stay with them given that you _did_ dismiss my offer to lend you my bed,” Seungcheol responds, fully aware of the direction it will lead this conversation.

“Their cabin is more foul-smelling than yours—” Jisoo pushes at his shoulder. “Scoot over. Let me lie down.”

The bed, makeshift support made of once-white blankets and cloth that are now a chary shade of gray, is not ideal for two people. It fits Seungcheol just fine. Scooting over means they both have to squeeze in. Seungcheol rolls on his side, back against the wood and bad leg propped over the good, leaving enough space for Jisoo to lie on comfortably.

He didn’t really think of the cramped space when he suggested they sleep together.

But now, they are doing that anyway. He can’t help commenting, “My quarters are not that foul. What have you been smelling?”

Jisoo scoffs, writhing a little to make himself comfortable. When he finds the perfect position, the perfect feeling of laying his back on the bulky bed, he says, “This whole ship stinks. You and your men stink. Their cabin smells like manure—have you been keeping pigs or cows aboard?”

“All meats are salted to be preserved,” Seungcheol shrugs. “The smell was the crew’s. Their head has a channel that glides their _dung_ to the sea. That’s what smells. Mine just goes straight to the sea, no channels.”

“O-Oh,” Jisoo looks shaken upon hearing about that. “Well, that aside, I cannot grasp how people surrounded by water survive without bathing.”

“You have not bathed in a week either,” Seungcheol points out. “You smell like us.”

Unaware of what comes over him, he leans forward to breathe in his scent, nose touching the skin of Jisoo’s neck.

He smells sweet, but not overwhelming like the smell of candy that makes you want to taste the sugar. Jisoo is more like the ambrosial sweetness—you want a sip, a taste of the tea mixed with a spoonful of honey to soothe the nerves. He smells more like an embrace.

He’s that kind of sweet.

Seungcheol smiles at the reminder of the beverage he hadn’t had the luxury of seeing again. Since the War, his throat has only ever had rum or grog… which is basically watered-down rum.

“Your clothes may smell like the rest of us,” he says, barely a whisper. “But your skin reminds me of tea with a hint of honey. Dare I say it’s the scent you carry around naturally.”

His breath tickles the surface of Jisoo’s skin, and he delights when he sees goosebumps rise.

(Jisoo takes a little while before conceiving a response to his remark about his scent, heart pounding loudly in his ears. He ends up not saying anything as a retort.)

“Would it be all right…” Jisoo trails off, looking at him as if he’s trying to piece together his question. If Seungcheol didn’t know better, he’d think he’s _angry_ based on the way his brows meet together.

“Why are you furrowing your brows at me?”

Jisoo heaves a sigh and continues, “Would it be all right if I get a whiff of your scent, too?”

Seungcheol lets out a laugh, unbelieving at what he’s hearing.

Who would want to smell a nasty old pirate?

“Suit yourself,” Seungcheol says, closing his eyes and baring his neck. Whatever Jisoo’s nose finds, he can take it. He has heard worse.

And… he might be a little prepared for this.

He feels the tip of Jisoo’s cute, button nose grazes the side of his neck, inhaling delicately. When he opens his eyes, he sees Jisoo lying on his side, too, facing him. His face is a shade of bright red, and the shirt he’s wearing dips off his shoulder, exposing an area of his skin that looks so delectable to Seungcheol. The desire to have it is eating him from the inside, slowly, like he could just bite it and take everything he wants.

“Y-You still stink. Your clothes smell revolting, but,” Jisoo breaks the silence, tearing his gaze away from Seungcheol’s eyes. “But your skin smells like the s-sea. Saltwater and…”

“And?”

“Peppermint.” Jisoo’s eyes light up when he remembers, and Seungcheol finds himself staring too deeply. “Have you been rolling around the herbs in the kitchen?”

“I may have rubbed some onto my skin,” Seungcheol admits because he finds no reason not to do so.

“Since when do pirates care about any of that?” Jisoo chuckles light, eyes curving up into pretty crescents.

“Since I found out a beautiful siren has found its way onto my vessel.”

That catches him off guard, making him sputter and burn up even more. Seungcheol’s face breaks into a smile at the sight of the feisty, little noble mistaken as a siren turning bashful because of his words.

“That’s absurd,” Jisoo sneers instead to hide the true damage of the other’s words to his resolve. He turns, back facing Seungcheol, and closes his eyes, a smile he’s unable to quell creeping up to his face. “Let’s rest. I have a long day tomorrow. I’m going to have to tie knots and such, said Seokmin.”

“I could help you with it—teach you a thing or two.” Seungcheol decides to push his luck by delicately throwing an arm around his waist. He waits for several counts, expecting the other to do something against it to let him know what _this_ means, but to his pleasant surprise, Jisoo does nothing except move closer until his back is against Seungcheol’s chest. He takes it as permission to pull the prince a bit tighter against him as he secretly, but not so slyly, buries his nose in the other’s hair. “I can have someone else man the helm.”

“I like the sound of that.”

* * *

“Ah,” Jisoo lets out a deep sigh as he stretches his body, basking in the feeling of sand under his feet. Seokmin had offered him a pair of old sandals that he accepted earlier, but he longs for the feeling of being on land again.

His time aboard the ship wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Seungcheol made time in his captain's agenda to teach him various things.

(Of course, the Captain spending leisure time meant the first mate gets to have the discarded responsibilities, but Jeonghan did as he was told. Jisoo found his discipline awesome unlike Chan’s tendency to loudly complain as he complies or the likelihood of Seungkwan whining more than doing when tasked with an extra post.)

They’ve gotten along well and Jisoo tended to his burn until it healed properly. At one point, Seungcheol found him swinging his cutlass in the air like an _absolute_ _buffoon_ , but instead of laughing at him, the Captain held his hand, draped himself around Jisoo, and guided him through proper forms in sword-fighting.

(That moment is one Jisoo will never forget. There was an initial embarrassment from being caught red-handed as he swung the weapon like an idiot, but there was also the feeling that Seungcheol's body was warm against him. He could still remember the hot puffs of air in his ear and Seungcheol’s cheek next to his as they moved together.)

It took them a few weeks to get to the island the Captain had talked about. It’s nothing special—palm trees are everywhere, and the island itself seems barren, too tiny. It’s uninhabited. Seungcheol told him this is where they will stop over to repair the damages on the ship, and then they’ll turn back to his home.

Jisoo’s not sure if he wants to think about going home for now.

“Settle somewhere,” Seungcheol tells him, cutting off a conversation between the Captain and the quartermaster. “Don’t cause troubles. My men and I will be doing work, and you might not be of help, so you can go take a walk.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Jisoo quips, earning a snicker from Jeonghan. They haven’t had the chance to talk aboard because the man is always busy being the quartermaster _and_ the first mate, but Jisoo thinks they’ll get along well. “I will go for a swim. The water looks clear.”

“Don’t go too far in the water. The waves might take you away,” Seungcheol reminds aloud when he starts walking away.

Jisoo only turns back with a wink.

“I’ve learned not to act like fish or I might get mistaken as a siren again.”

***

The two are left staring at Jisoo’s retreating back. Jeonghan wonders where the Captain’s eyes are glued on. “Since when do you care—”

“Since him, Han,” Seungcheol replies before hearing the rest of it. He takes his gaze off the shapely hind, swaying a little as the prince walks. A grin is gracing the captain’s face. Jeonghan wonders about what happened on the ship when he was doing all the work for him. “Since _he_ happened.”

* * *

That night, Chan proposed a bonfire, but even before the Captain could throw in a word to allow them, they had already started gathering the wood scraps to burn.

The youngest of the hands wants a massive bonfire, one that reaches the tallest palm tree. As big and as high as a sea monster that was fabled to live in the depths of the ocean—But seeing this average bonfire in front of them… _a kid can dream_ , Jisoo thinks. He may be naïve as well, but Chan is still too young to be kept from his ideals.

He sits on the bare sand from a distance, watching the men have fun sharing rum and the fruits they found on the island. They are also roasting fish they caught.

(Some of the crew went fishing earlier, and Jeonghan had to help him out of a sticky situation because he was swimming naked in the presence of pirates again. It was a good thing the first mate was there to cover him up as he made his way back to the shore. If not, well, it’s not like they haven’t seen him naked aboard.)

The night breeze is cool against his skin, and if he tilts his head upwards, he would be greeted by thousands of twinkling stars, the moon nowhere to be seen. Jisoo looks down at the flash in his hands—grog. Seungcheol handed him this earlier, saying it would keep his insides warm. He takes a swig of the rum and water mixture.

“Do you want to come with me to the ship?” Seungcheol’s voice disrupts his thoughts. Jisoo looks back to see him, and he wonders when exactly he thought of the pirate as attractive. Because he is. Excessively. “It’s lively here, but you look like you need some peace.”

His outstretched hand is filled with scars and callous—a proof of the manual labor. Jisoo stares at it for a moment before turning his gaze to him and his wet, tousled hair. He looks cleaner like he soaked himself in the water and scrubbed his skin with sand, and he’s wearing a clean shirt that Jisoo thinks he had seen on a cloth line earlier when the men were washing their clothes by the shore.

He seems brighter.

It’s a different impression, and Jisoo feels his heart skip a tiny beat upon seeing him like that.

He’s quite a sight.

Jisoo takes the hand, and Seungcheol leads him to the ship. They hold hands on the way to the shore, and Seungcheol doesn’t let go even when they’re already on deck.

All around them are lanterns, lit to aid their movements so they don’t have to walk in the dark. It’s quiet now, on deck, whereas it was always rowdy when they were on the sea. The crew must be having fun on the island, Jisoo thinks as he sits on the freshly scrubbed floorboards of the stern of the ship. They worked really hard on cleaning and repairing the vessel. They deserve that.

He rests his weight on his hands, propping him up from behind him, and Seungcheol does the same. This way, they can look at the stars.

“Do you miss home?”

Jisoo smiles at the question, expecting it somehow.

“Honestly?”

Seungcheol nods quickly beside him, overly curious.

“No,” he says, firmly. “I don’t.”

“You’re a prince,” the Captain states the obvious. “You have the grandest life any one of my men would die to have.”

“That’s not the entire truth and you know it.”

“What do you mean?”

Jisoo shakes his head. “I can’t believe you don’t notice. The crew loves it here, being under your care. They don’t want the restrictions of being a prince. They don’t believe in it. They believe in you because, well, you believe in them.”

“I suppose we are what remains of the family.”

Jisoo tilts his head in confusion. “How did you choose to become pirates?”

As silences make itself known, the two of them settle comfortably on the wooden floor. Jisoo lies flat on his back, and so does Seungcheol, and they both watch the bold pitch-black sky adorned with the shy yet blinding glimmer of the stars.

“We were the men of a small island,” Seungcheol starts, and Jisoo listens attentively. “Far west from your kingdom. The Gray War began with Solanum invading Amanita, a massive domain near our island. When Solanum’s army found our place, they took everything…”

Jisoo turns to look at him, but Seungcheol is staring straight ahead at the stars, eyes gleaming mirrorlike. “Everything we treasured. Even lives. Our best move was to flee to protect our people. But, Solanum was quick to destroy. They’re like forest fires no one can control. They eat everything in their way.”

“The women and children?” Jisoo asks, noting that no one aboard was any of the two. They’re all men. “What happened to them?”

“Captured. Killed. Burned alive. Chan is the last of the children. He was the only one we could save.”

Chest heavy, he takes the Captain’s hand in his, rubbing the knuckles ever so softly, like a silent prayer.

Seungcheol looks at him this time, a tear falling from his face. Jisoo moves closer, kissing it away.

The action obviously startles him, but he closes his eyes and nods at Jisoo as acknowledgment. A _thank_ _you_. Jisoo feels it in his heart.

“We never had a choice but to become pirates. We just had to raid and live on the sea to survive. Last time, we found a vessel with Solanum’s admiral aboard, and some of their men jumped onto this ship before we escaped. They didn’t recognize us, how would they? But they did want to get rid of us, somehow. We fought the men off and threw them overboard. They still got to brand me, and that is something the crew may never know. Only you and Jeonghan have seen my mark.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo mumbles, pulling himself closer to Seungcheol and wrapping him in an embrace. “It must have been hell for everyone.”

“It was. But we have chosen to move on and live our lives to the fullest so that the lives we lost are not lost in vain.”

Jisoo thinks that’s the bravest one can do.

From a distance, they can hear the loud cheering of the crew. And with it, they fall into comfortable silence.

“And you,” Seungcheol says after a while of regaining himself. He rolls to lie on his side, hugging Jisoo closer to him and hovering over him a little. Jisoo’s head finds its way on the Captain’s bicep, resting on it like a pillow. “What’s your story?”

Jisoo sighs with a smile. “You want me to tell you about how I’ve never had to lift a single finger before? Or how I’ve always had what I needed, but never what I wanted. I don’t have a story like yours, Cheol. I had all the privilege.”

 _Cheol_. It feels nice on his tongue, the name. Jisoo watches the man before him redden.

“What were you doing swimming the night they mistook you for a siren?”

“Oh, that,” Jisoo turns away to look at the stars. It’s embarrassing. “I was wishing for an intervention.”

“An intervention?” Seungcheol presses on.

“I was supposed to get married to a Maikoa prince the day we formally met. I didn’t want to, but I had to. So, I thought that was going to be my last swim, my last moment alone, and I asked the stars for an intervention, anything to stop the marriage.”

Seungcheol laughs at that.

The thing about his laugh is that it’s deep and sonorous, strictly from the gut. He smiles wider and he touches more. Jisoo cannot tear his eyes away from him.

“Will you look at that,” Seungcheol says, aiming for the skies, the glint of his eyes following where his finger points. “The stars granted your wish. Here’s your intervention, siren.”

And when Seungcheol looks back at him, eyes full of laughter, Jisoo makes a move. He leans forward and presses their lips together, taking him by surprise. He has a hand on the captain’s strong shoulder, hanging on him for dear life, and Seungcheol…

He’s kissing him back. Suddenly, there’s an arm supporting his waist and a hand caressing his cheek. All of it. Under the stars.

It’s Seungcheol who pulls away for air, leaving Jisoo wanting for more.

“What does this mean?”

Jisoo chases his lips. He misses the warmth of them when they’re off him. He wants them all over him, on every inch of his body.

The night breeze is cool against his skin, and if he tilts his head upwards, he would be greeted by thousands of twinkling stars, the moon nowhere to be seen. And Jisoo would nothing more than to be warmed by the man with him.

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

***

Seungcheol carries him to his quarters, hands cradling his waist and behind as Jisoo wraps his legs around him. He settles him on the bed, a lantern on the table being the only source of light. He scans Jisoo’s face as he falls naturally on top of him.

“You can say no,” Seungcheol breathes out as his lips hover over Jisoo’s. Jisoo’s head moves forward, ready to do it with him, but he has to hear it from him. He has to be sure that Jisoo’s sure.

Jisoo lets out a distressed whimper to show Seungcheol that he’s more than ready and that he’s getting impatient.

“I want you.”

 _Too much_. The words hang suspended in the air as Seungcheol claims his lips, finally. That’s all he needed to hear.

Jisoo’s lips are pillowy soft and they taste like the ripest fruit that he’s taking from the tree because he’s the one who wants it most and nothing can stand against him if these are what he’s fighting for. He tastes as sweet as he smells, and Seungcheol cannot get enough of him. When his eager tongue dances with the prince’s shy ones, he feels all of his pride, all of his admiration encased in one heavenly person.

Pulling Jisoo’s clothes off in the heat of the moment, Seungcheol is filled with amazement as he admires all the lines of Jisoo’s body. His beauteous tan skin glistens wherever the meager light touches.

And it blows him away—the way right this moment, Jisoo is neither a prince nor a siren. Underneath Seungcheol, he’s celestial.

Otherworldly.

Jisoo bares his neck for him, and with pleasure, he put his mouth to work. Jisoo is as sweet as he smells, as sweet as he looks, and his noises—the tiny exclamations when Seungcheol makes him feel good—are even more gratifying. He takes his sweet time staking his claim all over, marking him and taking pleasure in the fact that these marks will stay here, on this precious, supple skin, for everyone to see. And he made them. And he’s the only one who can do that.

Seungcheol unwillingly pulls away to strip off any remaining clothes on the two of them, and by the time he’s on top of him again, they’re both unclothed, skin hot against each other.

“Can I have you in my mouth?” Jisoo wonders aloud with curious eyes, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Seungcheol ceases his nipping on Jisoo’s collarbones in favor of looking at his timid face.

“If that’s what you want,” Seungcheol says, flipping them over and guiding Jisoo to straddle him. This way he could see him in all of his disrobed glory, and he swears to have never seen anything as divine. “That’s what we’ll do.”

The excitement that crosses Jisoo’s face will be one that Seungcheol never forgets. The prince kisses him on the mouth, tongue poking a little reluctant, a little unsure of what it is doing, so Seungcheol opens his mouth to coax his tongue with his own, commanding as he leads the way. Jisoo pulls away for air, and he continues by dragging his lips against Seungcheol’s strong jaw, nibbling gently with his lips. Seungcheol feels his member harden in a fit of passion as he holds Jisoo by the waist since he doesn’t know where else to place his hands.

Jisoo trails downwards, leaving fire in every kisses’ wake. And Seungcheol is burning, hot and searing, like a wrought iron being forged by a metalsmith. And when he reaches Seungcheol’s rock-hard tumescence, Jisoo visibly gulps, earning a concerned look from the pirate.

“Are you certain about this? We can stop—”

“I want this,” Jisoo looks up at him with eager eyes, gleaming. “I just wasn’t expecting your…” he clears his throat, gaze turning back to Seungcheol’s tremendous arousal. “Enormity.”

Seungcheol chuckles, bringing a hand to stroke his cheek, and Jisoo instinctively rubs his cheek against the loving touch. “I have to admit that that is flattering, but you can stop whenever you want. You don’t have to do this for me.”

Jisoo scoffs, taking the leaking length in his hand. “Don’t be too flattered. This is more for me than you.”

He takes in the bulging head and Seungcheol feels his soul escape his body at how hot and wet Jisoo’s mouth is. His tongue swirls around the tip, eyes trained at the pirate’s expression. What the prince couldn’t fit in his mouth, he strokes with his hand, his drool coating the whole shaft.

“ _Jisoo_ ,” Seungcheol sighs his name in defeat when the prince takes more of his member. It’s not all the way inside, yet he can feel the tip reach the back of Jisoo’s throat. It’s a sublime sight—Jisoo’s plump lips, shining with spit, stretched beautifully around his girth, and his eyes are on Seungcheol, and there’s nothing more he would want than etch this moment in his memory. When Jisoo swallows around him, it makes Seungcheol let out a guttural groan.

Seungcheol cards a gentle hand through Jisoo’s honey-blond hair as he says, “I want to make you feel good, too.”

And it’s enough for Jisoo to pull away from his cock, lips carmine and spit-slicked.

Seungcheol lifts him up just to put him back down, laying him on his back. He grabs a vial of liquid from under the bed, showing it to Jisoo. “Is it fine if I use this?”

“What exactly is in it?” Jisoo asks.

“Clove oil,” Seungcheol replies, and to his surprise, Jisoo’s expression darkens.

“Have you used it with someone else? Someone on this ship?”

Snickering at Jisoo’s pout, Seungcheol pecks his lips to pacify his doubts. “No such thing happened. I’ve been saving it for this moment.”

Still, Jisoo looks suspicious of him, and so he sighs, “You can ask Jeonghan if I have ever touched anyone else. He would be _more_ _than_ _happy_ to tell you that it has been several years since I have done anything like this—”

Jisoo pulls him down for a kiss, biting his lower lip a little as if he’s punishing him. It stings, yet Seungcheol doesn’t mind. “It’s a question meant in jest. You worry too much. Now,” he says, opening his legs a bit and showing Seungcheol what he should be focusing on. “The wait is over. Let’s put it to good use.”

Seungcheol is dumbfounded when he sees how beautiful Jisoo is down there. He never fails to be beautiful. Every inch of him is perfection as if he was handcrafted by the gods. He pours the liquid onto his hands, careful not to waste any.

“Bear down,” he asks of Jisoo, and the prince obeys him, relaxing his muscles and lying on his back as he lets Seungcheol touch him in places no one else has ever seen before.

Seungcheol teases his entrance with a finger, feeling the ridges under his fingertip. It puckers a little at contact. Seungcheol finds himself staring as he slips a finger in, looking back up just to check on Jisoo’s comfort and stroking his thigh. He bends down to pepper kisses on the prince’s navel.

Jisoo whines for more and Seungcheol gives him more, and for the rest of the night, it’s a cycle of Seungcheol wanting to give him everything he has. When he’s three fingers deep inside, the prince moans and cries out for more, _Seungcheol, give me more. I want you inside me._

And Seungcheol gives him all that he can, hovering over him with a braced arm next to his head and lining up his bulging fullness onto Jisoo’s slick hole. He enters slowly, making sure not to hurt the brilliance that is the prince. And Jisoo’s body takes him in indulgently, his hole stretching around Seungcheol’s cock as he penetrates through it.

The sound that escapes Jisoo’s lips as he takes Seungcheol to the hilt is almost blasphemous—music to the captain’s ears. He watches Jisoo with desiring eyes as the prince squirms under the pressure and his ears chase all the pants and the sounds that come from the beauty underneath him.

Seungcheol bends down to claim his lips once again, chest to chest with Jisoo as he moves, sliding his engorged flesh inside Jisoo’s silky molten heat to the beat of their hearts.

Jisoo moans freely into the kiss, tongue moving all over, doing his best to keep up with Seungcheol as he tries with all his might not to lose his mind over the feeling of being split apart. The prince grinds his body along with the pirate’s thrusts, so Seungcheol decides to break the kiss as he moves faster upon Jisoo’s silent request.

He pummels in him, and the sound of skin slapping reverberates inside the quarters. Jisoo sobs, loud and in earnest, as Seungcheol hits the deepest parts of him, rubbing against a bud inside him that makes him want to explode.

Seungcheol feels his release coming as he watches Jisoo’s pleased expression twisting into a pained one.

“Ch-Cheol,” he whimpers as Seungcheol noses his cheek, hips pounding against his in extraordinary fervor. “Cheol, I’m coming.”

Seungcheol takes Jisoo’s length in his oil-slicked hand, pumping in time with his thrusts to aid the prince into completion. It only takes Jisoo a few more moments, the cock inside him, and the warm hand wrapped around his shoulder making everything in him shatter. And then it comes, and he releases in Seungcheol’s hand with a loud cry of the pirate’s name.

Seungcheol only had to hear his name from the prince’s lips to fall apart. He feels the clench of Jisoo’s muscles, making the drag of his swollen cock tighter than it ever was, and he didn’t think it would still be possible to have Jisoo any tighter than he already is. He chants Jisoo’s name, pumping all of his cum in the tight heat, earning a mewl from the prince who visibly delights in being filled.

Seungcheol refrains from pulling out, enjoying the heat around him as much as he can, and Jisoo doesn’t seem to mind. He flops half on top of Jisoo, mindful of putting all of his weight on him. Letting his lips linger on Jisoo’s cheek, he mutters, “Does anything hurt?”

Jisoo shakes his head and rubs his nose against Seungcheol, flashing him a blissful smile. “Worrywart is what you are. I’m all right. You were amazing. So good to me.”

Seungcheol feels satisfaction at his words, closing the gap again and taking his soft lips once again.

After a bit more kissing and caressing, Seungcheol decides it’s time for them to rest. He gently pulls out and maneuvers them so that Jisoo is lying on his chest as he holds him close.

“Sleep,” he says quietly, stroking Jisoo’s hair. “We’ll be back at sea tomorrow.”

Jisoo could only hum and hug him tighter in response, but the smile on his face as he drifts to sleep is enough for Seungcheol.

“Good night, my love,” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on Jisoo’s crown.

Hoping that he’s worthy enough.

* * *

It’s like nothing happened and everything went back to normal. The crew boarded the ship, and when Jisoo woke up this morning with a blanket draped over him, hole throbbing as a reminder of what happened last night, there’s no trace of Seungcheol in his quarters except for his loud voice shouting commands from the stern of the ship. He’s back to his captain duties.

He didn’t expect to be _romanced_ by a pirate, but all Seungcheol has done in his life by far is exceed all expectations.

That said, Jisoo has never felt something so _good_ in his entire life.

This is what he wants. And he knows he wants it.

And he’s ready, he thinks, to fight for it.

“Are ye excited to come home?” Seokmin chirps from next to him as they tie a long, long rope into sectioned knots. They sit in a circle, hands expertly doing the job. Jisoo can keep up, but he’s not as good.

Seungkwan is the one to answer the question meant for Jisoo. “I’m excited! The Captain said we’re going to a royal’s territory. Isn’t that weird? Pirates docking at a kingdom’s port?”

Chan happily adds, “You should have told us you were a prince, Jisoo! Thanks a lot for saying you’ll fill with food. Ye’re a blessing!”

“The question was for Jisoo, ya scurvy dogs!”

“Not really,” Jisoo answers Seokmin before it escalates into the three of them challenging one another with swords drawn. “I’m a little… upset.”

Seungkwan frowns, “Why? Don’t you want to come home?”

“It’s just…”

Jisoo sees Seungcheol standing by the helm next to Jeonghan who is holding a map. They’re reading it intently, discussing with each other, when he looks up in time to catch Jisoo’s eyes.

At that very moment, there’s a fire in him that is set ablaze.

For a split second, Jisoo imagines a life without that fire. And for a split second, he decides he would rather die.

When he finds himself back in reality, Jisoo sees three toddler-men looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

Jisoo shakes his head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. I will just miss you three.”

With that, the three pirates’ eyes simultaneously turn glassy, tears spilling one by one. They all cry out, “Jisoo!” as they smother him with a stinky group hug. It catches the attention of the other crew members around them, snickering at his fate.

And in the tearful group hug, Jisoo catches Seungcheol’s eyes on him once again, the captain smiling fondly at him.

Something about not seeing it ever again makes him want to break into pieces.

* * *

“We’re raiders,” Jeonghan can’t help pointing out as Seungcheol steers the helm. “And we’re heading to a kingdom…”

“Spit it out, Jeonghan.”

“What if they kill us? I have a bounty on my head.”

“So do I,” Seungcheol grimaces. “But I have to bring him back. I promised him that.”

“I thought you two are in love? How are you letting him go just like that?”

“Wha—” Seungcheol sputters, turning red up to the roots of his hair. “What!? Who gave you that idea? What!? Did he tell you that? Did he say anythi—”

“No one had to tell me,” Jeonghan says as he mentally calculates all _this_ reaction. “You two made love.”

“H-How…” Seungcheol swallows a lump in his throat, looking like he’s cursing Jeonghan in his head. “How did you know that?”

Jeonghan smirks knowingly, chin pointing higher than usual. It’s always so fun for him to turn the Captain into a sputtering mess.

“Have you forgotten that this ship is made of wood and that I bunk right there?” He points at a hammock below the stern, right next to the Captain’s quarters.

“Oh, well.” Seungcheol decides to just tell Jeonghan. The first mate is never shy about things like this anyway. “He wanted it and I wanted it, so we did what we had to.”

“No need to act coy, Captain,” Jeonghan drawls, irking him deliberately. “It has been so long since your last adventure. I’m rather proud of you for this one.”

Seungcheol only shakes his head in disbelief.

“You are saying you’re ready to let him go?” Jeonghan urges. “After everything?”

“Of course,” Seungcheol replies, voice so even that if Jeonghan hadn’t known him for so long, he’d be fooled by it. “That’s the plan. That’s the promise.”

“Very well,” Jeonghan sighs. This chunk of a captain can sometimes be too stubborn. “Have it your way.”

* * *

For the rest of the time that Jisoo is still aboard their ship, Seungcheol makes the most of his company as much as he can. When he’s not doing anything, he searches for him. At night, when the rest of the crew sleeps, they share it in heat, in fear of their skins losing contact, in dread of not feeling each other enough.

And the words are right there. Would you like to stay with me here on this ship? But Seungcheol doesn’t feel like he’s in the position to ask that of him. After all, he’s a poor criminal despite what led him to this path, and Jisoo is a pristine prince. A noble.

They’re a week away from Jisoo’s home, and the fact is eating Seungcheol from the inside.

Chan, Seokmin, and Seungkwan prepared a farewell event tonight with dancing and singing and music playing and rum, the only things they have aboard. Seungcheol stands by the door to his quarters, overlooking the main deck where Jisoo laughing, sunny and buoyant, at his three friends who are goofily dancing to a tune.

He’s so beautiful, gleaming under the moonlight. He stands out like the only flower in the middle of dried weeds, and Seungcheol’s heart cannot grasp the chance of the prince staying here where he clearly doesn’t belong.

“Still want to turn the ship around?” Jeonghan asks, jolting him out of his reverie.

He’s on his hammock next to the Captain’s quarters, polishing his dagger, not even sparing a glance at Seungcheol.

“Focus on your work.”

“Harsh. Although, I have no work. Just polishing my dagger.”

Seungcheol scornfully replies, “Don’t bother me.”

“From gaping at the prince?” Jeonghan teases some more, unbothered by Seungcheol’s tone. He’s the first mate for a reason. “Y’know, he’s happier here.”

“We don’t know that.” Seungcheol’s brows meet as he thinks about Jeonghan’s words.

“I’m saying,” Jeonghan says as he inserts the newly-polished dagger in its velvet sheath. “Maybe bringing him back is the worst thing you could do to him.”

Stubborn as he is, the Captain brushes the words off before it sinks in. “Shut your mouth. What do you know?”

Jeonghan only shrugs, unaffected even by the harshest words. He knows Seungcheol from inside and out. He stands, stretching his arms in the process.

“Do as you wish. I’m going to dance with your prince while you sulk in here like a child.”

* * *

“Hello,” Jisoo greets as he enters Seungcheol’s cabin, only to find him on the bed with a deep frown on his face.

When Seungcheol recognizes the voice, he looks up, a smile forming on his lips. “Hello, beauty. Are you having fun with the guys?”

Jisoo giggles, recalling what happened earlier. “I just came here to check on you. They’re still having fun out there. Seokmin and Chan make fun of Seungkwan a lot, and at some point, they started _trembling_ when Jeonghan joined in.”

Seungcheol’s smile widens as he watches Jisoo naturally walk towards him, perching himself on the captain’s lap as he tells the story.

“Jeonghan controls everything around him. They’re terrified because he gets…out of his mind when he pulls pranks.”

Jisoo nods, fondly agreeing. “And he gets a little flirty when drunk.”

The look on Seungcheol’s face as he says that satisfies something inside Jisoo. Lips pulled into a pout and brows meeting each other, forming creases on his forehead, the Captain asks, “Did he try to woo you?”

“He might have fondled my rump twice… no, thrice.” Jisoo hums as he calls to mind the memory. Seungcheol’s glower only darkens, and so he tries to alleviate that. “Ah, but I told him I already have a handsome captain.”

For a moment, Seungcheol continues to look upset, but it slowly eases into a triumphant look as Jisoo kneads his shoulders. “I do like the sound of that.”

There is a warm serenity that settles in the air as Jisoo wraps his arms around the captain’s neck, burying his face in his soft locks. Seungcheol cradles him in his lap, caressing his thighs and waist as he thinks about the thing that boggles his mind the most.

“Jisoo…”

Jisoo hums, snug in his arms.

“You’ve been living as royalty. I’m certain you miss your home.”

Jisoo raises his head, tensing at the words. His eyes meet Seungcheol's wary ones.

“I know that tone. Are you trying to say goodbye to me, Seungcheol?”

“This was the initial deal, Jisoo.”

“Did—Did I do something wrong?” The prince’s voice cracks as he puts it forward. “Do you not want me here anymore?”

“No!” Seungcheol immediately hurls back, unable to let him feel let alone think about that. “No. Isn’t this what you wanted? To come home?”

Jisoo remains silent, face blank, and Seungcheol continues.

“I just want to give you all that I can. Even if it means I bring you home,” he says, eyes searching for anything from the prince’s manner. “Even if it means I have to let you go.”

“I’m having so much fun here,” Jisoo says in a small voice, vulnerable and somber, and it hurts Seungcheol to hear him like this, but they have to have this exchange. “This ship is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Jisoo, listen to me,” Seungcheol pleads he understands. “This is _it_. What you see with your eyes is everything that I can give you. We’re poor. We’re criminals with a bounty on our heads. Soon, we will have to raid another ship that we come across, and I don’t want that on your conscience. That is _my_ cross to bear.”

“I have thought about that,” the prince interjects, pain swimming in his eyes. Seungcheol would give up anything to erase it all away. “And I’ve decided I want whatever keeps me close to you. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you not to turn the ship around and just forget my home because you never _asked_ for me to stay. And now you’re trying to say goodbye, but I’m not going without a fight, Cheol. Not anymore.”

Jisoo holds him close, afraid that if he lets go, Seungcheol will just decide for him. And time flies fast, and the world spins faster, and before he knows it it’ll be over. He will be back, by the shore next to the castle, without the captain by his side.

How excruciating his heart breaks at the mere thought of it.

“When I think about what you had, what you’re supposed to have…” Seungcheol continues despite all that Jisoo told him. “I can’t give you everything you deserve, Jisoo. I’m not worthy to be by your side—”

“You can,” Jisoo says, determined. He closes his eyes tight, jaw settling firmly. “You can give me everything, Cheol. Everything that I want.”

“How?”

“Don’t resist it. It’s easy,” Jisoo leans in, breath ghosting over Seungcheol’s nose. He places a chaste kiss on the soft, tender lips of the love of his life.

“ _Just_ …”

And then a kiss more thorough than the last one, tongue swiping in between Seungcheol’s lips, beguiling him into parting them.

“ _Give_ _me_ …”

And then further deepening it, open mouths mirroring the yearning and desire that they have for each other. All the unspoken words, all the worries, the anguish, all the _what-ifs_ and _what could be_ s.

“ _You_ ,” Jisoo whispers as he tears his lips off the captain’s. “Just you, and I’ll be the happiest. You’re everything to me.”

It never made sense—Jeonghan’s words, his own thoughts—but now, he’s surrendering to it like a captive of love.

It’s Jisoo’s eyes—soft, gentle, reverent—that draws him in and compels them to keep him safe and tend to his needs. It’s his touch that wills him to be pliant, yielding to his wants, no matter what those may be.

“Don’t send me back. I need you,” Jisoo mumbles, smiling with his eyes and mouth, as he watches Seungcheol finally _understand_ that it can be easy to take him. For a pirate, he’s holding back too much on having the prince to himself. “Like birds need the sky.”

“And I need you,” Seungcheol runs a knuckle down his cheek lovingly, eyes steady and brows raised. “Like ships need the sea.”

“This is a vow, Captain,” Jisoo snickers, cupping Seungcheol’s face in his hands. “This is a promise of mine. To give you my heart.”

Seungcheol closes his eyes, crinkling his nose in utter happiness.

It’s all right, he thinks. To have all of him.

It’s all right.

“And I,” he vows to all spirits of the sea, bearing witness to what they have. “To love you for all of our days.”

**Author's Note:**

> ok so who's going to tell chan seokmin and seungkwan they're not getting kingdom food
> 
> AHHHH THIS IS OVER IM SAD it's so nice to write too! somehow i found myself thinking.....wow.......pirates are so cool.... like as a political science student their politics...whew......did u know they just oust their captains whenever they deem them unable to lead well anymore???? the philippines cant relate. Anyway....pirates are really unhygienic so i did my best on NOT thinking about HYGIENE when they were doing the nasty in the captain's quarters.
> 
> the song i used as inspiration is Like ships need the sea by emily hearn! it's a nice song... just really heterosexual
> 
> alright!! holler at me here:  
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> 
> also im trying to save up and quarantine isn't making that too easy for me soooo my [[fanfic comeeshuns](https://ao3-shuanime.carrd.co/)] are open if you’re interested! comeesh me hehe
> 
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> 
> THANK U SO MUCH FOR READING UNTIL HERE AHAHA ur so sexc ;) please leave a kudos and a comment i rly love reading your thoughts ♡ mwa mwa stay safe and wear masks! please!


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